


Bathtub Hymns

by ItsPennyBitches



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Couldn't get this idea out of my head for no particular reason at all, Cronus kills himself, Cutting, Depression, SO, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, TW:Suicide, bound to happen, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsPennyBitches/pseuds/ItsPennyBitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, yes, angsty angst angst. Welp. Have at it dear readers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathtub Hymns

Cronus didn't exactly remember what they said, or even why they said it, but it happened. And here was, in his bathroom, staring into the mirror, watching the tinted tears stream down his scarred cheeks. He watched as they dripped from his chin, staining the white cloth of his shirt, some even making it to the porcelain of his sink.

The Aquarius chuckled bitterly, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands, attempting to wipe it clear of tears. "Shit..." He muttered, voice quiet and scratchy. His throat ached from holding back his wanted sobbing. The troll braced his arm onto the sink, leaning over it slightly as he took shuddering breaths, almost whimpering slightly, when he found he couldn't hold it back.

And he snapped.

He was forced into a shuddering arch as he sobbed loudly, forcing one of his hands over his eyes as if he could push back the tears, or block the pathetic sight in front of him, mirroring every disgusting flinch at his own voice. It was too much.

The emotions he had been penting up. The reality that his life was complete shit and all because HE made it that way, because he didn't know when enough was enough, or when to shut his mouth when he had no idea what he was getting into, and that every harsh and offensive name he was called, couldn't have been more true.

It was this moment he decided he couldn't handle it. _So handle it, he didn't._

Cronus wiped his face clean with the bottom of his shirt, his breathing rapid as he stood straight, and stared at the mirror one last time. 'Fucking idiot.' He thought. With that, he slammed his fist into the mirror, relishing the crunching noise beneath his hand. This slight satisfaction was quickly ended though, when he flinched back from the pain of a mirror shard nicking the tender skin of his hand.

Cronus cradled the wounded appendage to his chest, watching the thick violet liquid ooze down his wrist, and dribble onto the floor.

Cronus would have patched it up, had it not such a _refreshing_  sight. It was if all the pain and frustration he had felt, materialized itself, and bled its way out of his body... He wondered just how much pain he could get out...

The cut wasn't as interesting when it stopped bleeding and he had tried to dig around in his skin, even squeeze the flesh around it, but to no avail would his pain ease any more. Cronus looked at the broken mirror in front of himself, reaching forward with both hands and using his nails to pry the large jagged pieces out, the sound of them clattering to the counter of the sink echoing in the small room. Once he decided he had done enough, the hunt began, for a bigger, much sharper piece for the job he needed done.

His heart leaped at the sight of the _perfect_ glinting shard in his hand. 

Carefully, he leaned over, setting the shard onto the edge of his tub and turned his attention the the faucet, closing the tubs drainer, and filling it with the hottest water possible. "Hot water makes you blood flow...." Cronus muttered, standing back to kick his boots off, tugging his shirt over his head next, and then slipping his pants off, leaving his black boxers.

He gave himself one front look and shuddered, believing that smashing the mirror was probably the best choice he ever could have made. _This, being the second._ 'And final.' He mentally added. Once he had decided the tub was full enough, he stepped inside, hissing at the  _unbearable_  burn that wrapped around his feet, then legs, and soon, his entire body was encased in a torturous heat that made his heart pound and skin flush.

He gazed at the shards' beckoning presence in the dull light.  _It was calling, screaming even, for him to pick it up. To drag it across the disgusting grey flesh, and carve out all the pain, cleanse all the bad from his body._ There was one final deed he needed to complete first. 

The water sloshed around as he sat up from his position, wet arms dripping as he reached over to the jeans originally discarded, reaching into the back pocket and retrieving the rectangular carton, along with his lighter. He flipped open the top, plucking a smoke from the box, and then chucking it across the room as he placed the butt between his lips. A swipe of his thumb, and the lighter produced a small flame, rosining the end of his cigarette to a burn.

Cronus breathed in deeply, feeling the slow and mentholic burn in his lungs, then exhaled above him. He felt a lot calmer now. A steady hand grasped the lonely shard, dipping it below the water, and marking its first victory across his abdomen, one long horizonal line, and then a verticle from his collar bone down. The pain was releasing... With another puff of smoke, he made several across his thighs, watching until violet seeped into the water, clouding up his morbid view.

The water felt cold by this point. 

Gently, he inhaled the smoke, the stick never leaving his mouth, and exhaled from the corner of his lips, half of his cigarette gone, ash fallen into the dirtied water. The final cuts needed to be made... Cronus slid the now dulled glass across his wrist, frowning when he didn't receive the wanted depth of his cut. He did it again. And again. Until finally, the blood gushed, and he shuddered as it felt even colder than the water. Cold and Numbing.

_He never noticed the tears that slid down his face the whole time. The loud, audible-from-outside screaming he did while easing his pain._

_Or the dropping of the cigarette from his mouth into the solid violet water._

_And he never heard the loud gasps coming from the door of the bathroom..._


End file.
